I Don't Play Around
by LoveandScience
Summary: This started as a one-shot, but I felt like adding a couple more chapters. Adam Jensen is tired of Pritchard's games. Adam/Pritchard If you don't like the pairing, don't read it. This story is just pure slashy fluffiness without any real plot. If you want a more interesting A/P, I personally prefer my other story. This is paused while I finish that one.
1. Chapter 1

Adam Jensen did not like games. He had often been called "too serious," but he had no desire to change that reputation. Sure, he made a few jokes here and there, but they weren't the kind you really laughed at. His humor was dryer than scorching desert sand.

The cyborg stalked down the hallway, intent on his target. He would end this frustrating little dance that he and Francis had been performing since the day they met. Now that his prior commitments had been taken care of (small things like uncovering world conspiracies), he could put an end to it all.

Jensen entered the room with as much presence as he could muster. He stomped noisily to Pritchard's desk, and when the tech ignored him, he leaned down and got in the man's personal space, face reaching past the computer monitor.

Unable to pretend he didn't see him any longer, Frank Pritchard closed his eyes, sighed, and pushed his keyboard back before asking, "What do you want, Jensen?"

"This has got to stop, Francis," the head of security demanded.

Frank rolled his eyes. "All you have to do is stop coming into my office and bugging me. I don't know why you're telling _me_ that it needs to stop."

Adam narrowed his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about. You've been acting like you hated me since the first time we even spoke. I'm a detective, so I've got good intuition, so I kind of knew, but the C.A.S.I.E. augs confirm it. You don't hate me. It's time to just admit it and stop this little game."

Pritchard stood up, suddenly. "It's inappropriate for you to be using augmentations for this purpose."

The cyborg ignored the protest, and continued on. "You don't hate me. Far from it."

"That's enough, Jensen. I'm not sure what security to call because you are security, but this is harassment," the computer tech threatened as Adam walked around the desk towards him.

"I don't like to be toyed with. I've been through enough shit these past six months. I'm sick of being lied to."

Pritchard's heartrate increased tenfold as the ex-SWAT stopped less than an inch away. "S-stop it, Jensen," he squeaked out halfheartedly.

Adam smirked. "Stop what, exactly? Am I affecting you in some way?"

"Adam," Frank said softly, "okay. You win. I don't hate you and I won't act like I do anymore."

The cyborg leaned his face a little closer to the smaller man's. "And how _do_ you feel about me, Francis?" At Pritchard's stubborn silence, he slowly closed the gap between them, allowing for the tech to deny him if he wanted. Frank stared defiantly at the ground, arms crossed, until he felt warm lips on his own. His eyes widened at the contact, in disbelief that this was actually happening. He grabbed Adam's head when the ex-cop began to pull back, and returned the kiss with rough passion. Now that Jensen had gone and opened the floodgates, he sure as hell wasn't going to hold back.

Adam lifted Frank up, setting him on his desk as the kiss deepened. Their tongues met, each tasting, exploring the other. Their lips massaged in slow circles, unwilling to part. The security chief brushed stacks of papers and small electronics parts to the floor, leaning Pritchard (who didn't care enough to protest the mistreatment of his work equipment) back and climbing on top of him.

It wasn't until Pritchard felt the metal hands undoing the buttons on his shirt that he protested.

"Jensen, not here, for God's sake. I'm not about to be fucked in front of whomever decides to walk by and look."

The brown-haired man laughed lightly. "I would never have dreamed of our first time being at work. Don't worry, Francis."

Frank sat up and looked at Jensen quizzically. "Why do you call me Francis?"

Adam brushed the tech's bangs aside affectionately. "Because it was obvious early on that you had the hots for me, and it was frustrating as hell the way you pretended not to."

"What if I really just didn't like you, and I don't even like you right now?" he snarked back, defensive.

Adam Jensen narrowed his eyes. "I don't like games," he reminded the other man, just before pulling him closer by his shoulders and kissing him.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jensen, you never did tell me who Michelle Walthers is, and why I had to assign security to her," Frank asked, looking up from his book. The computer tech had taken to spending a copious amount of time in Adam's apartment, nearly moving in as he left more and more of his things there. So it was not unusual for the two to engage in parallel activities, reading books next to each other in peaceful togetherness. After all, how many things could they really think of to do or sit and talk about? Pritchard had begun a habit of bringing take out over after he got off his shift, and falling asleep a few hours later on Adam's couch. The ex-cop had not dissuaded his partner, but had not openly welcomed the actions either.

Adam looked up from his own readings. "I guess it slipped my mind."

Frank waited for him to continue, but when he didn't, he prodded him more. "So, who is she?"

"Francis, I don't really want to talk about it right now," the security head's eyes drifted back towards his book.

"Look, if you're seeing someone else," Pritchard's heart squeezed as his jealousy-tinged words escaped, laying bare his raw fears, "then I want to know."

The brunette sighed, setting his book on the table. He gently took Frank's closest hand into his two metallic ones. "You're the only one I'm interested in, romantically, Francis. And I hope you know that I appreciate what you did for me. You risked your career, and I really do owe you an explanation. It's just not going to be pleasant to hear."

Worries assuaged, the raven-haired man relaxed his muscles, only just having realized that they had been tensed. "I guess I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and take you away from me."

The ex-SWAT held his partner's hand tighter. "Michelle Walthers saved my life when I was a baby. I was created through some sort of gene therapy, and was the only one that survived the experiments going on at White Helix Labs. My real parents apparently started a fire to save me, in which they died, but Michelle took me and gave me to the Jensens. According to the investigator Sarif hired, I was five. You'd think I'd have remembered something, but I grew up thinking the Jensens were my birth parents. I mean, I can remember other things from that age, how can I not remember my own birth parents? But Michelle's still alive, and I want to keep her that way. I owe her my life."

"Adam," Pritchard said softly, not quite sure what to say. "You were a child, and children need their parents. That need is so strong, it makes sense that you would forget, especially at that age."

"And, my God, people just kept wanting me for my genes. Even Megan, who I thought cared about me, just used me for them." Adam let go of the tech to bury his face in his hands. "It makes me not want to be who I am, sometimes. Radford's right, I'm just a freak. A monster. I can forget about it most of the time, but when I have to think about them at work or in a conversation, I just want to have a fucking lobotomy so I can forget everything."

Frank wrapped his arms around the cyborg. "I'm so sorry for bringing it up. And I'm so sorry that people have used you in such deceitful and disgusting ways."

Adam glanced up at his partner. "Pritchard, I don't think I could take it if you were just using me, too," his voice shook slightly as he spoke, his emotions painfully exposed.

"God, Jensen. Adam." The raven-haired man swallowed. "Adam, I would never do that. I couldn't."

"I'm sure my DNA is still pretty valuable. You could sell it and make a fortune."

Pritchard grasped the ex-cop's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Listen to me, Adam. This is me you're talking to, and I..." he bit his lip nervously, "I...I, goddamnit, I love you, Adam. Even if you left me, I would never do anything to hurt you."

The cyborg pulled him into a tight embrace.


	3. Chapter 3

Despite the fact that Frank Pritchard had now officially moved in with his...boyfriend...God, that word sounded weird in reference to Jensen... the computer technician felt that their relationship hadn't really _gone_ anywhere. Ever since Frank had told Adam that he loved him, he had expected _something_ significant to change. He supposed that signing on to the other man's lease should have been a big step, but it was surprisingly non-monumental. He'd basically been living there already. Frank couldn't fool himself—he knew that the real reason he was unsatisfied was that Jensen still hadn't said he loved him, too. The lopsidedness of the situation loomed over Frank everytime he thought about his partner (which was quite a bit).

Sure, Pritchard _wanted_ to bring it up, but an 'I love you' was just not something he could force. He'd be even less satisfied with the situation if the only way he'd gotten the words was by coaxing it out of the damn cyborg.

It was as if their relationship had stagnated at kissing and living together. Adam hadn't even tried to have sex with him! They slept in the same bed, but that was it. They only slept.

Frank understood why, but it didn't make things any easier. Jensen had been burned in his past, especially when he was at his most vulnerable. Pritchard knew the man had loved Megan, but she'd only betrayed him. Pritchard also burned with jealousy whenever he thought about the woman. Why was _she_ enough to have Adam's full heart, and he, who had never hurt Jensen, was not? Was there something wrong with him? Intellectually, he knew that his partner was just afraid of being hurt again. Frank knew that. Frank understood, but...

"Why?" He slammed a fist down on his desk. It was even distracting him from his work, damnit.

Timing impeccable as always, the cyborg stepped into the room just in time to see this display of anger.

"The great Francis Pritchard, having trouble with a computer program? I'm shocked," he teased. The tech would have cracked a smile had he not been so full of rage that he practically couldn't see.

"Leave me alone, Jensen, I'm working," he declared coldly.

Adam looked at him, confused. "What's wrong?" he took a few steps closer.

Pritchard clenched his fists. "If I'm not mistaken, we are at work. We're not here to chat."

The head of security froze, looking hurt. "We always have lunch together. I mean, ever since we started seeing each other. Did I fuck up?"

Frank's heart wrenched, and he felt like an asshole. "No." Adam simply stared, waiting for an explanation. "No, you're fine. I just don't feel good, is all," he lied.

"Okay," Jensen said, meekly. "Unless there's something I can do, I'll just see you back at the apartment tonight." Seeing that Pritchard was not planning to say anymore, he turned around and left the office.

"God damnit," the tech muttered as he rest his head defeatedly on his desk.

That night didn't fare much better. In an effort to avoid much contact, and especially a discussion, Pritchard went from the front door, to the shower, and straight to bed.

At one twelve, he shot up from a nightmare. Adam stirred at the movement, but remained asleep. In an effort to control his racing heart, Frank walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, then plopped on the couch. What the hell could he possibly say to Jensen? How could he get over the intense anger and hurt that flared up whenever he had a spare second? It was clear he needed to do something, but he was at a total loss.

Deep in his thoughts, he didn't notice the cyborg come up behind him.

"Francis?" the ex-SWAT inquired gently.

The raven-haired man jumped a little. "Jensen, I didn't know you were awake."

The man slid next to him on the couch. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

"Why does it even matter?" the tech sighed.

"Because you say it's not about me, but I'm pretty sure you're lying. And if I don't know what I'm doing wrong, then I can't fix it." Adam slid an arm around Pritchard's waist, securing him closer.

Frank looked at him, despondent. "It's stupid, because I know you have every reason to be cautious, but it still hurts. There are times where I feel like this is a one-sided relationship, and that you'll never care for me the way you cared for Megan."

"Frank, you're not Megan. You treat me better than she ever did."

"Maybe I'm just being paranoid, as usual. I wish I could stop it." Pritchard leaned his head on the cyborg's shoulder.

Adam held his hands, enjoying the closeness. "Frank, I love you."


End file.
